


Haunted House

by Karashi



Series: Ride It Out [3]
Category: Ben 10 Series
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 21:20:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2243889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karashi/pseuds/Karashi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The job sounded too easy not to have a catch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Haunted House

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little experiment I'm doing where I write stuff (short or long, depending how I'm feeling) for my pairings inspired by amusement park rides and attractions. As I very rarely go to amusement parks, feel free to give suggestions for rides.

"Alright, clean up team two gets the perimeters of the complex. Salvage what you can. And tidy up the campgrounds while you're at it. Teams one, three, and four, you lot get what used to be the west wing. The mercs get what remains o' the east wing," barked a the overseer from the screen of a hovering comm-bot. "And all o' you watch out for that codon-stream. We ain't gonna be held liable if any o' you fall in and end up with your DNA all scrambled."

The monitor blinked off. The groups dispersed to their respective assignments.

Heavy boots silently marched through the wreckage of what had been an R&D complex in an undisclosed location. A pair of gold eyes stared impassively at the droids and automatons clearing away the debris and pieces of shrapnel that littered the codon-stream knifing through the facility's grounds. Crystalline features remained a blank behind a helmet even as a heavily scarred tetramand mercenary paused beside him and remarked offhandedly, "Years and years of research all up in smokes in minutes. Dunno whether to laugh or feel sorry for 'em folks in this kinda biz."

"They knew the risks," was all Tetrax had to say.

"Guess so. Isn't like they was doin' this with a laser pistol to the head," the other mercenary conceded. "But you gotta wonder what they was researching if they gotta hire soldiers to do clean up."

The petrosapien turned to follow after the group, "No doubt something dangerous," he stated as the group passed several charred battlesuits and war-droids whose weapon systems flickered to life now and again. But there were droid that rebooted without warning and charged at the group. And they refused to stay down unless riddled with laser-fire.

"Listen up! We's got ourselves three floors. Overseer says he can't guarantee structure integrity. Least not after the accident. Those who can fly takes the top, the lighter ones gets the second, and the rest of us get the ground floor," the tetramand instructed. "Keep a look out for scavengers of the loot and corpse kind. Remember, we's not out for blood so render 'em unconscious. Not dead. Buildin's defense system should be Fried as Fuck but after seein' those droids, we better keep on our toes."

"In a manner of speaking," a lepidopteran coughed. The joke barely took the edge off their nerves.

The teams were careful as they went to their assigned floors. Silently, cautiously, they tread down long, dented, metal corridors, inspecting each room they came across. The teams found broken furniture, shards of glass, crumpled armor, burnt knickknacks and other ruined mementos. Tetrax wished the Overseer had informed him they were doing a clean up on the residential area of the compound. Judging by the somber expression on some of the other mercenaries' faces, they shared his sentiments.

Learning that the security system was indeed Fried as Fuck, they decided going solo would cover more ground. It was clear most of them wanted to get this over and done with as quickly as possible.

While collecting whatever salvagable equipment he could find, Tetrax's heart suddenly plummeted when he chanced upon a familiar-looking shoulder-guard. He swallowed and bent down to retrieve the piece of armor. His fingers brushed over the surface, wiping away the soot and ash to reveal blood-red metal underneath.

It's someone else's, he told himself, keeping the urge to panic at bay through discipline and sheer force of will. Millions of aliens in the universe have the same armor-design. It's definitely someone else's. And normally the thought wouldn't even have crossed his mind except he hasn't heard from Myaxx in months. The last time they spoke, the chimera only mentioned being commissioned for a sensitive project and would be unavailable for a long period of time. There were no specifics in the conversation. Tetrax knew better than to ask. Myaxx knew better than to volunteer.

They kept things vague, gave no detail apart from "that device" or "this suspect" or "the job." That was supposed to be a sign of trust, a show of faith that the other was smart enough, capable enough to stay alive in their respective fields. And Tetrax almost, almost convinced himself that he was jumping to conclusions. Had he not spied the faint glow of a hard-light cube trapped under a collapsed desk.

Carefully, he retrieved the cube and after a moment's hesitation opened it. Gold eyes stared at the set of tools contained within the cube. Numbly, he held them in his hand for what felt like an eternity. The petrosapien was grateful for the angry yells that cut into his thoughts. Pocketing the hard-light cube, he went to see what all the commotion was about. His brisk walk became a run and his blaster was in his hand when he heard weapons going off.

"Stop firing, you trigger-happy moron!" The tetramand ordered.

Said trigger-happy moron complied only because the hooded figure he had been shooting at hurled a small boulder at him.

"Halt!" The tetramand barked, four pistols aimed at the intruder, "I's not gonna shoot unless you give me a reason."

"Are you all deaf!?" A female voice screamed indignantly from under the hood. "I said I was friendly fifteen times!"

"Friendlies don't purposely take out one of their own!" the lepidopteran pointed out as he swooped down and yanked the cloak off of a petite, humanoid, celadon-skinned she-alien.

Before she could make a retort, sirens blared deafeningly from a comm-bot that zoomed towards the mercenaries. The Overseer was visibly panicking on the monitor "Any o' you lot seen the lead researcher? She snuck outta the survivors' camp for who knows what reaso-oh! Here she is!"

The comm-bot hovered in front of the lead researcher who looked more annoyed than apologetic. "Are you bonkers?! The higher ups'll have my neck if anything happened to you! There be scavengers and looters roaming around! Oy! One o' you mercs, escort her back to the campgrounds and make sure she actually stays there," the Overseer commanded and the comm-bot flew off.

"I didn't sign up for babysitting," a mercenary muttered.

"I'll go," Tetrax volunteered.

As the others returned to their original task, Tetrax noticed the lead researcher's luminescent-pink eyes were studying the east wing.

"You can't go in there."

"Oh yeah?" She sneered while staring up at him, one arm akimbo, and her hip jutting in defiance. "You gonna stop me, stone-breath?"

It wasn't the insult that Tetrax recognized. It was the inflection, the cadence, the familiarity in the way she said it coupled with her stance that made him realize it was "Myaxx?"

She huffed, folded her arms across her now-ample chest and nodded.

Relief flooded him and the fear and worry from finding her charred armor and destroyed room melted. It took every bit of his warrior's discipline to keep himself from embracing her. Instead, he told her "You look different."

"Way to state the obvious," she snorted. Then grew quiet. Wordlessly, they headed back to the campground.

Upon arrival, the Overseer chewed out the scientist the entire trek from the entrance to Myaxx's tent. He left with an order for Tetrax to "Make sure she stays put!"

Once inside the privacy of Myaxx's tent and the Overseer was out of ear-shot, Tetrax softly whispered "I'm glad you're not hurt." He smiled behind his helmet when he saw the ends of Myaxx's tentacles darken in color in what he assumed was her version of a blush. When she said nothing he continued, "I found your room. Saw your armor was ruined."

"Did you find my tools?" She suddenly asked, sounding very hopeful.

He brought out the hard-light cube, which she quickly snatched from his hand. But she didn't open it, didn't take out any of the tools stored inside. She just held it while awkwardly shifting her weight from one leg to another.

"They don't have the necessary equipment to fix the corruption in my DNA," she began. "I was planning on making something I could use to analyze my DNA before I got back to Azmuth's lab. Bastard owes for this. Imagine, lending me to this company like I'm one of his inventions!"

"Are you at least getting paid?"

"Obscenely but that's not the point!" She snarled, "If he hadn't offered my services I wouldn't have built that stupid prototype. And if I hadn't built it, it wouldn't have gone haywire during start-up. And if it hadn't gone haywire, it wouldn't have tried to drown me in the codon-stream." Her eyes were focused on the small box she held so tightly her knuckles paled. "And if it hadn't, my DNA wouldn't have been corrupted. And if my DNA hadn't been corrupted I wouldn't have been at the off-site hospital but in my quarters when- when-"

Tremorks quaked her body and her voice cracked.

Warrior's discipline be damned. Tetrax retracted his helmet and pulled her to him. Though her arms could no longer completely encircle him, her grip was the same. Fierce and tight and a little desperate but given the circumstances he couldn't fault her for it. He himself held her closer than normal and longer than usual. Even when he felt her let go he continued to hold her.

"This better not treat be special treatment just because I look different," Myaxx muttered, reluctantly winding her arms around him again upon realizing he had no intentions of letting go anytime soon.

"This is special treatment," he smirked when she glowered at him, "Just not for the reason you think."

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a way to explain (mostly to myself) Myaxx's redesign in Alien Force when you consider the distinct lack of Chimera Sui Generis sexual dimorphism in Secret of the Omnitrix.


End file.
